Flavor Of The Month

could never be the flavor of the month, per se. I don’t bend to trends or follow the fray.
I don’t play nice in pre approved boxes,
don’t march in line or mirror your optics.

I don’t match the beat of the world’s drum. I got my own rhythm, my own hum. It ain’t always smooth, but it’s real. It’s mine. And that alone makes it a threat in your design.

See, I can be controversial, not because I scream. But because I sit silent, and still don’t agree. Because I smile in storms and walk through fires. With unbothered steps and unshaken desires.

You call my peace a violent opposition. Because I won’t play the role you wrote in your vision. You want a reaction, a spark,
a show, but I give you calm, and you don’t know where to go.

You see, your system’s built on control,
on scripts, on fear. But I tore out the page
and made it clear. I don’t fit in your frame,
I’m the break in your mold. The glitch in your matrix, the truth you were told to ignore,
to shame, to silence with style. But I speak with my presence and I walk every mile.

So no, I could never be your flavor of the month. I’m not sweet enough to swallow,
not safe enough to stunt. I’m bitter truth,
and holy rage. I’m freedom unfiltered, off the stage.